


Black Air

by lil_aussie_girl



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 12x12, Behind the Scenes, Choking, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 16:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10222145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_aussie_girl/pseuds/lil_aussie_girl
Summary: Based on the dialogue prompt #13 from the website: http://chrmdpoet.tumblr.com/post/155362613669/hurtcomfort-dialog-prompts.Prompt: 13. “Hey, just look at me. Breathe”Summary: He wasn't a medical expert, but Misha was pretty sure it was common knowledge that black, goopy, slime wasn't meant to go down your windpipe.....Set during filming of 12x12.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Second part of the series, and this time, we're gifting you with some Misha H/C. 
> 
> I have to be honest, this plot-bunny has stuck with me ever since I saw 12x12, and I finally managed to write it all down.
> 
> I have used some personal experience in this fic, having had a very similar experience with choking, exhaustion and all. It was not nice......
> 
> Anywho, onward!

It’s rather an odd feeling; having black slimy goo sloshing around in your mouth. You can’t talk, you can only breathe through your nose, and you’ve been told over and over again that you cannot swallow any of it. And on top of all of that, you’re covered in makeup and sticky fake blood is coating your abdomen, making your hands and clothes stick to your body. Not pleasant.

That’s the predicament that Misha Collins found himself in that day. 

He did believe that beneath the skin of their director lay the heart of an evil and sadistic man.

Said director was now headed his way, trademark smirk in place, headphones slung casually around his neck, hands in the pockets of his thick jacket.

“Okay, gentlemen, lady: ready for the big one? We’re gonna do the last big part of this scene now. I need you three –” here, Richard broke off and gestured to Jared, Jensen, and Samantha, “to be here. Cass is gonna yell, and you’re all gonna race toward him. We’re gonna try and get this done in as few shots as possible, because I know this’ll be tough. Any questions?” Richard finished, fixing the actors with a serious expression.

All actors present shook their heads, and Richard nodded, before calling off-set to one of the makeup artists. Misha had called her ‘the Bringer of Death’, as it was her responsibility to put the disgusting goo in his mouth.

Groaning as the young woman knelt down beside him, bottle of slosh at the ready, Misha glared at Richard’s retreating back.

“You could have at least made sure it tasted good!” he called. Richard – apparently having heard – let out an uproarious laugh, and gave him a shrug.

Sighing in acceptance of his fate, Misha turned to the makeup artist and opened his mouth obediently. She gave him a sympathetic smile as she poured a measured amount into his open mouth. He couldn’t help but cringe as the cold, horrid stuff glopped onto his tongue, threatening to set off his gag reflex.

Her job done, the makeup artist scurried away as Jared, Jensen, and Samantha all moved over to their marks, slipping back behind their characters effortlessly. Waiting for Richard to call ‘action’, Misha concentrated on breathing through his nose, silently repeating to himself that it would be over soon.

Honestly, who’s idea was it to put slimy goop in his mouth anyway?

Luckily, there was no more time to think as Richard chose that moment to call “ACTION!”, and the scene began.

Samantha, Jared, and Jensen all ran over to where he was lying, Jared – as Sam – said the line “we’re here, Cass.”

This was the cue to start letting the goop trickle out of his mouth. It’s a simple process; push the goo to the front of his mouth with his tongue, and let it slither slowly out. That’s the plan, anyway.

For some reason, as Misha opened his mouth to let the slime trickle out, his body must have tried to suck in some air. What followed was possibly one of the most uncomfortable experiences of his life.

Too late, he felt the goo sliding down his windpipe. And then he felt it stop in his windpipe.

Eyes widening in panic, he tried to take a breath in through his nose, and failed. He tried to open his mouth further and cough the slime up. The slime still in his mouth dribbled down his chin in a very sticky, gloppy mess.

Now having been without oxygen for a number of seconds, Misha was really starting to panic. He struggled into a sitting position and tried to get onto his side.

Voices suddenly broke out in a commotion above him, raised and panicked tones drifting in and out of his ears. All the slime was now out of his mouth, and just the problematic glop in his windpipe remained.

A desperate breath revealed that the shift in position had dislodged it enough to let a tiny amount of air down into his lungs. It was enough, and a violent, gurgling cough wracked his frame.

Warm, strong hands were on his shoulders now, familiar voices murmuring assurances in his ear, but they still felt as though they were being spoken underwater. 

His coughs became more desperate as the slime refused to move any further upward. Tears were dripping from his eyes, face slowly turning red.

The constant coughing and foul taste of the slime combined to make his stomach finally decide it had had enough, and the coughs became painful retches.

Suddenly, there was a painful thump on his back, nearly sending him forward into the hay bales over which he was crouched. Another thump, and Misha dazedly realised what they were trying to do.

After the next thump, the cough came easier, and with the next thump, the slime was back in his mouth. A final weak cough later, and the troublesome bubble of goo was on the floor with the rest of the black muck.

The slime may have been gone, but Misha still couldn’t breathe. Coughs and dry heaves continued to attack him, tears still flowing freely down his cheeks.

“It’s okay buddy, just breathe” a voice murmured just next to his ear.

Mid-retch, Misha shook his head, “I can’t” he rasped, coughing violently before continuing to retch onto the hay.

Next thing he knew, two blurry faces appeared in front of his own. 

“Hey, just look at me,” the face on the left commanded gently, putting a hand on either side of his face “breathe.”

Gulping and gasping, Misha tried hard to obey, coughing every other breath.

The other face turned into his direct line of sight and put a hand on his chest.

“Like this,” the face said, and proceeded to take a deep, slow breath in, holding it for a second, and then releasing it.

Trying to copy them, Misha took a few deeper gulps, and then really tried to slow his panicked breathing down. A few breaths in, he started feeling a little better, and he pushed through the lingering pain and nausea, deliberately breathing in and out in a deep, regular rhythm.

“That’s it Mish, you’re doing great buddy” the second voice encouraged, while hands were rubbing comfortingly up and down his back.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Misha’s breathing was back under some semblance of control, and he lay his head back against a hay bale, completely exhausted.

“Hey, stay awake for us man!” One of the voices called out, a hand tapping the side of his face.

Misha grudgingly opened his eyes and was pleased to note that his vision had quit looking like an ancient frosted window. Immediately in front of him were Jared and Jensen, both staring at him with equally concerned and scared looks on their faces. Behind them was – it looked like – the majority of the crew, all tensely focused on them.

If his face could be any redder, Misha was sure that he could have been mistaken for a tomato at that point.

“D’ I miss somethin’?” he mumbled; voice raspy and hoarse.

A wave of relieved laughter swept over the crew as the tension finally broke. 

“You really scared us there, Mish” Richard stepped forward and knelt down beside him, frowning in genuine concern.

Smiling weakly back at them all, Misha sat forward and let out a few tired coughs.

“I’m okay” he rasped out, taking a few deep breaths to prove it.

Richard didn’t move, he just shrugged.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind, but the medic is on his way, just in case” he told them, making it clear that there was no room for argument. 

Not that Misha had the energy to argue right then, anyway.

****

Chad – the set medic – made good on his word and appeared about thirty seconds later.

“Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner folks, car wouldn’t start” he apologised, immediately setting his kit down and snapping on some gloves.

“All good, we managed to get it sorted” Jensen spoke up, shifting his gaze over to the puddle of slime on the floor.

Chad followed his gaze, and let out a quiet “ah” in understanding, before beginning to examine his patient.

After being poked and prodded and had things stuck down his throat and having a cold stethoscope pushed into his chest, Misha’s exhaustion was beginning to show more clearly, and Chad finally stepped back.

“All good now; there might be tiny bits of it left in your system, so try and cough as much as you can” Chad announced, pulling off his gloves and zipping up his bag. “But if you start feeling sick, or you get a fever, go down to your doctor straight away” he added, a note of warning in his tone.

Misha just nodded, eyes struggling to stay open.

Chad excused himself with a final pat on his shoulder, and Jared and Jensen resumed their places at his side. Upon noting the way his eyes were drooping and his head was lolling around, Jared let out a soft chuckle.

“Come on, I think someone’s a bit tired” he grinned, and without warning, Misha felt strong arms scoop him up bridal style and lift him into the air.

“Um…. Jared?” he whispered, voice still not quite able to go any louder.

A grunt answered him.

“You don’t have to-” he started, but Jensen cut him off.

“Shut up, Misha” was the friendly grumble “enjoy it while it lasts.”

Shrugging, and finally letting his eyes drift closed, Misha decided to let himself do just that.


End file.
